The Sword and The Rose
by Eyesinthenight102
Summary: Mulan and Aurora return to the ancient castle in the sands, eager to search for answers regarding Phillip's soul …but memories often cleave to broken stones, and dark secrets still lie in wait. AU Enchanted Forest; set just after 2x09. Sleeping Warrior with a teensy touch of Philora. Rated T for blood and death.
1. Castle in the Sands

The Sword and the Rose (1/?)

(AN: An anon prompt request. Mulan and Aurora return to the ancient castle in the sands, eager to search for answers regarding Phillip's soul …but memories often cleave to broken stones, and dark secrets still lie in wait. AU Enchanted Forest; set just after 2x09. Sleeping Warrior with a teensy touch of Philora.)

-x-

The heavy fall of horse hooves pounded the dry, sun baked earth, tossing sandy plumes into dusty billowing clouds as a pair of equines tore across the landscape. The strong backs of the black horses bore riders cloaked in shadow, their faces obscured by scarves, and eyes narrowed against the wind.

The figures tore across the scrub-littered plains, their sweaty beasts frothing heavily as the horses were pushed harder and faster beneath their rider's booted heels.

Far in the distance the high walls and iron spinnerets rose from amongst the hidden sands, cradled and jewel-like. Beige sand-worn stone materialized, looming from the empty expanse of desert as if by magic. Parapets and domed roofs wavered in the torrid heat, intangible and far away like some twisted mirage borne of a fever-plagued mind.

The twin travelers raced onwards, hot gusts of wind tearing at their headscarves and whipping the manes of their burdened horses. They reached the outer wall in a matter of minutes, and swiftly reigned in their foaming steeds, shaded beneath the darkened shadows cast by the broken stones. The once fortified barricade was falling, giving way to the cruel touch of time.

The tallest of the pair sat ramrod straight in her saddle, craning her neck up to look at the vacant and abandoned parapets. An ornate helmet of polished steel glinted brightly from underneath a dusty cloth covering; the ragged linens were loosely wrapped to keep the sun from baking the gleaming metal that lay beneath. A thin slit of tanned flesh beneath the helmet's facemask was all that could be seen of the warrior's sweaty face and neck.

She ran a practiced eye over the wall, subconsciously measuring each stone and mentally cataloging every crack, while her hands played errantly along her horse's heaving flank. The perspiration soaked fur of the horse coated her gloved palm in hair and dust as she gave the faithful creature a firm but loving pat for his efforts. He had bourn the journey well, and would soon have a well deserved rest in the royal stables…if they could find a way beyond the hindrance that lay before them.

Mulan pulled the veiled scarf down and away from her nose and mouth, glad to be rid of the stifling thing. She blinked and shielded her eyes against the glare of the sun, her eyes narrowed as she scoured the beige brickwork, searching.

Her gaze, dark and unreadable as the night sky, skimmed and flicked over the impenetrable barrier scanning for any sort of clue for entry.

"It's here somewhere…" she murmured half to herself as she shifted in the well-worn leather saddle. She pitched her weight up and rocked forward, standing high in the stirrups to get a slightly better view. Her hawk-like eyes finally caught on a tiny dark line hidden by the curvature of the wall. A low ground-level crack arcing far to the west and sprawling spider-like up into the stone, a smudge among a sea of unending beige brick.

"There!" The warrior called out, pointing eagerly as she waved for her companion's attention. "That's our point of entry, princess." The guardswoman's dark black armor peeked out from beneath her thin linen cloak, the dense leather was worn but well oiled.

"What is it?" Aurora called over the howl of the winds, her words muffled behind the sand-guard of fabric as she squinted at the distant anomaly. Her skirts of lilac silk fluttered and flapped about her legs, battered by the sandy desert airstream.

"A crack in the wall." Mulan explained "The stones have crumbled there and fallen away. It's how Phillip and I got into the castle. We slipped through the fissure when we…when he…found…you." The warrior's mouth felt dry and gritty and she suspected that the desert sands were not the only reason why. Her words suddenly felt thick in her throat.

"_Phillip"_ His name clanged in her head, discordant and resonant like a death knell. _"My commander. My prince. My friend."_ her thoughts whispered as her fist clenched, fingers twitching in want of a swordhilt to grasp. Her hard fingernails cut dull red semicircles into her palm despite the hard thick leather of her gloves.

"Then we should go. The sooner we're through to the palace, the sooner we can search the libraries and get what we came for." Aurora's words cut through the swordwoman's heavy silence like the sharpened steel of a blade. Mulan glanced over her shoulder, nodding in agreement.

The princess's face was hard, and her mouth was pressed into a thin line of resigned determination. Her azure eyes looked both watery and fathomless, but she fought to keep her visage cold and unaffected. They both knew what lay in wait for them, the dead body prone upon a bier, arms folded, and eyes unseeing. Soulless, cold, and rotting.

They both knew, but neither wanted to say it aloud.

"I agree. We will search the library for any books that tell of wraiths…and then we can be free of this cursed place by night fall." Mulan growled, her emotion masked as flippant distaste. She nudged her stalwart palfrey on with a click of her tongue and a heel, angling herself towards the inky black crack that marred the wall, guarding the dark memories of what lay beyond. There was no going back.

-x—


	2. A Long Dead Rose

The Sword and the Rose (2/?)

(AN: An anon prompt request. Mulan and Aurora return to the ancient castle in the sands, eager to search for answers regarding Phillip's soul …but memories often cleave to broken stones, and dark secrets still lie in wait. AU Enchanted Forest; set just after 2x09. Sleeping Warrior with a teensy touch of Philora.)

Summary: Aurora finally returns to the place she once called home.

-x-

They strode, side by side, into the palace throne room she had once called home.

The soft swish of silks over marble coupled with the heavy thud of booted footfalls eked out a strange, eerie tempo as the pair entered the high hall of King Stephen and his Queen, Briar Rose. The domed ceilings yawned, open and wide, cupping every whispered sound and magnifying it back tenfold. Even the softest shuffled step sounded like the rumbling of a dozen horses tearing across the plains. Nothing was secret, and all conversations could be heard from any point on the marble floor.

The sensation was unsettling to most newcomers, but the odd feature had its uses in the court of kings.

Aurora had simply grown accustomed to the odd little quirks of the castle. They were the sounds of all that was familiar, though this was a place lost to time and long forgotten. These distant echoed pieces of her past were something she could never reclaim, not if she fought with the strength of a hundred armies, nor if she paid a thousand times her weight in gold. They were the precious, tiny, details; the last remnants of what she had let slip through her fingers.

The high throne hall was empty, save for the matching seats of wood. The thrones of the regents, long abandoned. The gilded mahogany wood had been stripped of all value, the sparkling gemstones pried from their tiny sockets by rough hands. The place of honor where her father had once sat proudly leading with chin held high had now become no more than a cheap chair. The merriment and babbling of the courtiers was gone, replaced only by silence and dingy vacancy.

Aurora looked up at the twin stairs that swept on either side of the thrones at the head of the room. Her body twitched, instinctively recalling the days long ago when she had leapt excitedly down, eagerly taking the steps two at a time as she raced to her mother's open and welcoming arms.

"_Mama! Mama!" The scampering feet of the young princess scuttled over the last flight of stairs, skipping over the landing and leaping towards her mother. Little arms flung themselves outstretched and hands grabbing at the open air, hungry for love and maternal touch._

"_Oh, my sweet little one." Briar Rose smiled, her pale eyes partly obscured by her high, dimpled, cheeks. Her red lips piqued into a smile, and her face was framed by luxurious long flaxen curls akin in color to the rising sun. Teardrops of pearl swung from her ears, glittering in the midafternoon light as she laughed, high and happily, her soft smile open and welcoming._

_Illumination of early noon lanced through the windows of stained glass, casting fractals of color and bathing Rose's creamy velvet dress in shafts of spectrum splendor. The ample swell of the square cut bodice matched perfectly with the simple detailing of the gold embroidery that scrawled, simple but beautifully, up from hem and hip and culminating in a vibrant blooming tree. Leaves outspread, its branches reached up to hug her ribs and midsection like tiny leaved fingers bathing in her radiance._

_It was no wonder that she had been called a legendary beauty. There were none who could hold a candle to her splendor; none likened to her quiet and demure grace. She was perfect, they said, everything a Queen should be. A Rose without a thorn._

_She strode the last few steps and knelt, meeting the child's warm embrace._

"_Mamma, I missed you." The toddler squeaked balefully, looking up into the beautiful face of the blonde noblewoman "You weren't in the gardens today…and all the flowers were blooming. I wanted to show you a butterfly I caught, but you weren't there." A tiny pink lip jutted out, and azure eyes, big and doe-like, looked close to tears. Rose cooed softly as she cupped her only daughter's chubby cheek and planted a gentle kiss upon Aurora's tiny button nose._

"_Shh, it's alright my love. I am here now. You can show me the butterfly tomorrow morning if you like…" The Queen trailed off and let out a sigh, her proud shoulders slumping as if beneath a great and terrible burden. "Aurora…darling, I must tell you something very important. You must listen very carefully, understand?"_

_The little princess gasped, her eyes stretching wide in excitement. "Like a secret?!" she whispered, her trilling timbre hushed in surreptitious secrecy._

"_No dearest. Not a secret…but it is very important, and you must never speak of it to your father. Can you do that? Can you be a big, strong, princess for mummy?"_

_Aurora nodded fervently, her little mouth drawing down into a serious frown. "I'm good at keeping secrets. Cross my heart." she said, x-ing a little cross with her finger above her tiny chest with a comical sense of stern duty unbefitting a 3 year old. Rose smiled and patted her child's amber locks with a gentle caress._

"_Mommy has to go away for a while…a bad lady named Maleficent wants to do mean things to some very nice people…and mommy has to make sure that the good people of the kingdom don't get hurt….but this may take a long time and Mommy isn't sure if she'll come back." Rose explained slowly, deliberately trying to keep her words as simple as possible for the sake of the child's understanding. _

"_I need you to promise me something, Aurora…promise that you'll be a good girl while I'm gone. Promise that you'll behave yourself and do as your father asks. And promise me that you'll be a wise and brave princess, dearest." The Queen whispered, her eyes were sad and welling with tears, but she fought to keep her tone light and her face smiling for the sake of the girl. Her breath hitched heavily in her throat, and she paused a moment to collect herself. "Promise?"_

"_But mommy…why do you have to go away? Can't you stay here? Why does the bad lady want to hurt the nice people?" The child wheedled, her voice whiny as she threw her tiny arms around her mother and nestled her face into the plush velvets of the Queen's gown. "I don't want you to leave."_

"_I know, dearest. I know." Rose whispered; her eyes clenched shut as the tears rolled silently from the corners of her eyes. She gently stroked the soft amber curls of the child, petting and reassuring. "But it's only for a while. Mommy will see you again…one way, or another…We will be together again, my dear. All that stands between us is time."_

The place felt barren, and so did the princess's heart. The castle she had known as home was nothing more than a shell, imperfect and shadowy. All that remained where once joy and hope had flourished was broken stone and empty promises.

Cracked marble and decayed worm riddled wood were all that was left of her parent's legacy. The stained velvet of the twin throne seats - once the color of rich, burgundy wine- was now shredded and moth eaten. The vibrant royal blue of her father's tapestry was dusty and blanched with age, its golden hem torn away undoubtedly by some roguish thief looking for a way to make an easy steal.

There was nothing now. Nothing but broken glass and dingy stone and empty hollowness.

Aurora shuddered. She felt brittle, breakable, abandoned and discarded. She was alone in this place: A dead, forgotten princess among dead, forgotten things. She felt the tears prick hot and acid-like in the corners of her eyes and she bit her lip, fighting against letting them fall. She would not cry in this house of ghosts and shadow.

The heavy touch of a gauntleted hand grasping her shoulder drew the princess' attention.

"Aurora." The warrior whispered her name, but it sounded like a thrumming chorus amongst the walls of stone. "We just have to search the libraries. Then we can go. You don't even have to see his body…"

"I'm fine." The princess croaked, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. She cleared her throat with a cough, and deftly changed the topic. "It'll be quicker if we split up. I can take the library up at the top of the stairs, if you'll search around a bit down here."

Mulan shook her head vehemently "I'd rather not…I have no sword to protect you, and if something should happen—. "

Aurora's cool, steady, unreadable gaze met the dark eyes of the warrior, and Mulan saw a thousand whispered words in those eyes of icy blue. The swordswoman felt her tongue grow still as the weight of understanding fell heavily upon her shoulders.

This was about more than finding a book; this was about seeing what was left. Whatever the princess was searching for, she was asking to find it alone.

"Yes, princess. As you wish." The warrior nodded, dutifully respecting the unspoken bounds and not daring to push the issue. Aurora silently thanked the spirits and gods above for giving Mulan such a keen sense of privacy.

"Thank you my friend. I will be fine. Call out for me if you find anything." The princess tossed over her shoulder, as she swept towards one of the twin arcing staircases that framed the room on either side. The stairs swept up, like outstretched arms, embracing the hall and culminating in a high landing that lead further into the castle's inner rooms. Mulan guessed that the library remained just beyond.

"Be safe. Don't hesitate to call for me. I am here if you need." The warrior shuffled from foot to foot, displeased with the idea of being apart from her young charge, but torn between her understanding that Aurora needed space and time to grieve over all that was lost. She dug her nails into the hard leather of her palm for the second time that day, letting the needle-like lances of pain keep her rooted to the spot on the floor.

This was Aurora's internal battle to fight. For now Mulan would simply have to wait and stand guard, ever vigilant, unfailing and unyielding. The warrior would give the princess the only things she knew how to give: her silence, her obedience, and her quiet strength.

-x-


	3. Beyond These Dusty Pages

The Sword and the Rose (3/?)

Summary: Aurora continues to remember all that she has lost, while she peruses the shelves of the library alone.

(AN: This chapter is pretty short…more good stuff and action to come. Sorry for the slow start.)

—x—

The old tomes smelled like a heady mix of knowledge mingled with mildew and dry paper. Aurora paced slowly down the long aisles of shelves, her measured stride falling into a rhythmic practice that she knew by heart. These dark wool carpets were the same paths she had walked as a child, skipping, whirling, dancing in among the folios and mazes of knowledge, darting in between bookcases and squealing excitedly as her father had playfully tried to pursue.

'_Catch me, catch me, papa!' the tiny princess shouted, dashing madly through the library, much to the chagrin to the pinchy-faced bookkeep who peered skeptically over the rims of her wire-framed spectacles. Aurora wriggled herself into a vacant space low on the bookshelf, her chubby toddler legs kicking and shuffling as she curled herself up into a ball, covering her face with her hands and giggling._

"_Hmmm now where has my little 'Rory-bug gone?" King Stephan asked, sea-green eyes twinkling with merriment. He mimed an incredible search effort, exaggerating his distress to play along with the child's game. _

"_Alas! She is lost, and I will never find her again!" He moaned, flopping to his knees and burying his dark, bearded face in his hands. Great fake sobs heaved from his chest as he pretended to cry, subtly peeping through old, knobby fingers too peer at his little daughter. _

_She watched his every move; lip jutted out, eyes wide, and sniffling away at tiny tears. The princess whimpered at the very prospect of disappointing her doting father. Little Aurora crept from her hiding spot, sneaking forward on tip-toes to peer at the hunched body of her papa and King._

"_Rawwwwr! Got ya!" Stephen howled, sweeping his tiny child up and catching her in his arms. The princess squealed joyously, her laughter peeling out across the halls, as she was encircled by a great bear-hug and her tiny forehead was showered with kisses. _

_The shrewish librarian hissed a 'SHUSH!' before adjusting her glasses and returning her thin, needle-sharp, nose to the confines of her dusty book. The king chuckled and flashed an apologetic smile, before crossing his finger to his lips and giving his daughter a knowing wink._

"_Papa, you cheated." Aurora whined, her fair eyebrows knitting together in the righteous, petulant fury of a child. She shook her tiny finger at him. "Shame on you. A King should be more honorabibble." She tripped over the long word, mish-mashing its syllables and making it up on the spot. Stephan fought not to laugh at the tiny, scowling, and serious-faced 4 year-old currently settled on his hip._

"_Ah, yes, my love. Kings should be very honorable. But sometimes, even a King must give up his honor and all the things he prides, for the safety of the ones he loves." His verdant, cool eyes crinkled at the corners with a hidden melancholy sadness as he gazed upon the face of his one pride and joy. His only daughter; fae blessed and witch cursed. _

_Beautiful, doomed, and so very, very young._

"_Your wisdom will come with time Aurora…You are already so very much like your mother." He whispered, as he planted another kiss upon the crown of her head. "Someday, you too shall know that even a princess must sacrifice herself for the good of all."_

"_I miss mommy." Aurora whined, nestling into the hollow beneath the King's rough stubbly throat, and curling her tiny fingers into the dark blue robes embroidered with the sigil of a golden rose. The tiny familial shield rested just above Stephan's heart._

"_I do too, dearest. I do too." He whispered._

_His dark beard, black and tinged with the early beginnings of frosty grey, scratched scruffily along her cheek as he pulled her up to sit high upon his shoulders._

Aurora leaned against the rotted wood of a bookshelf, her breath coming in pants. She bit her lip hard, swearing she would not weep, but an errant tear disobeyed the commands of its regent and fell to the ground by her foot with a tiny 'plish'.


	4. An Unusual Discovery

**Summary:** Mulan makes an unusual discovery, and a dangerous encounter forces the girls to make a difficult decision.

_AN: a fairly long-ish chapter. The good stuff (and my personal favorite part) will be coming in tomorrow's addition. ;)_

—x—

Mulan kicked a marble column with the toe of her boot, bored by the silence of the place. There was nothing here. Not a scrap. None of the worm-eaten old books strewn in the corners were of any help—most were catalogs of mapped territories, or dusty old pedigrees that traced the lineage of the noble houses. None even hinted at a clue for finding a way to reclaim a lost soul or resurrect a prince. This place was a dead end in more ways than one.

A tiny chunk of alabaster cracked beneath her incessant scuffing, crumbling to the floor.

'_Just like everything else here._' Mulan mused. '_Falling apart at the seams._' She sighed, glancing up at the empty staircase and biting the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. Aurora had been quiet for quite some time. Perhaps it was time to go check on the princess's progress.

'_No. Give her time. This is harder on her than it is on you_.' Her thoughts hummed as she fought to reign in her anxiety at letting the princess stray from sight. '_Stand guard. Be loyal. She needs that from you, more than anything right now._' The warrior grunted some obscenity under her breath as she conceded to weigh logic over passion. Sadly, the recognition that Aurora needed to seek alone did not make the waiting any less tedious.

Her eyes flicked around the room, searching for something to capture her interest. Her sight caught on the heavy hilt of a mounted bastardsword placed high above the mantle on the corner wall. She sauntered over to inspect the weaponry.

At first glance the sword seemed rather mundane. The hilt was old and slightly rusted, while the blade was wide and thick_. 'An_ _unusual style of craftsmanship'_ Mulan thought, wistfully comparing it to thin, lean, tang of her own lost blade. She squinted at the dingy steel with a practiced eye, noting that while the surface seemed to be coated in a layer of grime, the metal itself was immaculate and unblemished.

Thinly scrawled words were etched into the wide divot of the fuller; the letters started about midway down the blade and spiraled their scripted spindly letters up to meet the bold, sweeping crossguard. She slid a hand to the pommel, supporting the weight of the sword gingerly as she lifted it up and out of the bracketed sconce for a closer look.

Mulan ran a gloved thumb over the dirt, scrubbing away the grit with a solvent made from her own spit. Her saliva swirled the aged crust into a muddy slime, clearing away most of the spooge and uncovering the delicate phrase hidden beneath.

"_Ego sum spinam qui defendit rosam._"

The warrior scrunched up her face, confused by the meaning of the unknown words in ancient script. She rolled the vowels and consonants in her mouth, tongue flicking against teeth as she whispered the lexis aloud to herself. The words were not of any language she knew…but somehow, deep inside, she felt their power.

She gripped the weight of the pommel into her palm, spinning it to her hand, and giving it a few slashing swings. It felt big, heavy, and bulky — so very different from the light, tempered, balanced weight of her own sword—- and yet there was something she liked about the strange piece, something that felt strong, safe, and secure. It was unyielding.

A grating, clicking sound of claws rasping over solid stone drew her gaze from the cool metallic beauty of the fine-edged blade.

A mangy old hunting hound slunk from a niche behind a pillar, presumably from a hidden hallway that lead towards the outdoor kitchens. His hoary, greyed muzzle was matted with fleas, dirt, and congealed blood. The lean creature seemed not to notice the warrior at first, and was content to shuffle about snuffling in search of rats that could be caught and devoured.

The warrior could see that his jutting ribs and boney hips stood out in stark relief beneath his grayed shaggy hide. The beast looked as if he had not been fed nor bathed in at least several months.

The dog shook himself, tattered ears flapping against his narrowed head, and stretched with a whine. His dark, mucous crusted, eyes squeezed shut for a moment as his spine and hips elongated to flex his tired muscles. He snorted, the puff of exhalation ruffling the long whiskery grey hairs that hung from his snout making him look oddly like a sleepy old man.

Mulan found herself chuckling at the dog's comical similarity to her ancient and bone-weary neighbor back home, Mr. Tsu— a grumpy old codger prone to grousing angrily to anyone who would listen.

Canine ears pricked as the wolfish head spun towards the sudden source of mirthful sound. His eyes caught her in his sights, zeroing in on the newcomer. Skinny tail stood out straight, trailing behind, as the hound paced closer to study the intruder.

"Easy now…nice pup…I don't want any trouble." The warrior coaxed,warily noting that the lean shoulder of the dog was at least the height of her hip. She motioned with a hand to try and shoo the creature off.

Black lips curled up and back, wrinkling the mutt's face into a feral snarl. The beast bared its broken, yellowed teeth and Mulan could see a slavering pink tongue wet with saliva and froth. Slobber and spittle dribbled from his maw, spattering wetly on the ground in reeking puddles as he teetered dizzily on pencil-thin legs.

The telltale signs of illness were not lost on the warrior. She quickly noted that the beast was sick with the foaming-mouth disease, an ailment that made dogs and foxes lash out viciously. A bite from the infected creature, she knew, could kill within three days.

The dog's head dropped low as the wiry hairs on its lean back and neck prickled, spiking up in aggressive bristling rage. The feral dog bayed—-howling as though it had spotted a minx in the brush. Barking ferociously at the strange two-legged creature that dared infringe upon its territory.

His ragged ears flattened flush to his skull as a rumbling growl slid from his feral throat. The sound grew in ferocity, piquing to a crescendo that echoed eerily in the dome-roofed throne room while the hound stalked closer.

Mulan shifted herself, taking a two-handed grip on the wire-wrapped pommel of the broadsword and bringing it up in front of her. She began to circle instinctively, reacting to the movement of the aggressor and trying to keep a fair distance between herself and the lupine jaws. She glanced towards the stairs, and silently prayed that Aurora would make no sound. Fear and trepidation clenched in the pit of her belly at the prospect of the dog shifting its malicious intent to the un-armed maiden.

The warrior slowly moved until her back was to the leftside staircase, and began to inch herself step by step towards the stairs. Her eyes never moved from her opponent, twin orbs focused with laser-like intensity, watching for any twitch of muscle that would signal the dog's attack. She stood between the hound and the princess, ready to defend. Ready to kill.

Her worst fears were realized in a matter of moments.

"Mulan?" called a voice from the balcony high above "I can't find any books on wraiths and I thought I heard something..what's going on?" the princess strode out from the library's antechamber, wiping thickly at flushed cheeks and wet eyes.

"Aurora! " Mulan's eyes flicked away for only a split second, turning to warn the maiden of the dangers and bid her run. The hound saw its opportunity and leapt, teeth bared, at his prey. The dense body of the wolfhound slammed into the warrior's chest, knocking her backwards.

The princess screamed as the warrior fell to the ground, body tangled and thrashing beneath the dog.

The beast pinned the swordswoman under its weight, jaws snapping, and face spattered with spittle. Mulan roared back angrily, baring her face into a fearsome snarl, as she instinctively threw out an arm to grip the feral creature by its massive throat. The warrior's battle reflexes kicked in as she twisted, wriggling out from under the hound and shoving him away, slashing wildly with her borrowed blade. The beast yelped and recoiled, dancing back out of range and starting to circle again. Mulan clamored to her feet and raced up the stairs, yelling and waving at the princess to move.

"Go, go. GO! Into the library!" She half ushered, half shoved the maiden ahead of her, tearing madly for the warren of shelves and tomes.

"Th-that was one of my father's old hunting hounds!" Aurora stammered incredulously. "Why would he attack someone like that?"

"He's diseased, 'Rora. He must have been bitten by something with the foaming sickness. We need to get out…"

Scrabbling of limbs and snarls followed quickly after as the beast leaped up the stairs, claws clattering on the marble as his lean, long legs took the steps two at a time.

"This way!" The princess grabbed the warrior's hand and they raced, zigzagging through lines of bookshelves, skidding around corners at a break-neck pace. The sound of hot wheezing pants and rumbling growls was hot on their heels as the hound followed. The creature's keen sense of smell and instinct blended with its maddened brain, giving it a single-minded purpose to pursue its prey. He howled, baying again as it leapt to the chase.

A tiny niche behind a decrepit old library clerk's desk was their target. The pair sprinted, tearing wildly for the wooden door and together they dove headlong for the tiny narrow stairway. They slammed the door closed on rusty hinges, just in the nick of time as the body of the slavering creature rammed itself against the worm-eaten wood with frustrated snarls.

"I think the door will hold…for a little while. Are you ok? You didn't get bitten, did you?" Mulan panted, supporting her weight with a free hand against the stone as she fought to catch her breath. A stitch cramped painfully in her right side, just below her ribs.

"I'm fine, what about yo—Wheredidyougetthatsword?" Aurora asked, the question burbling out in a rush. Her voice was breathy and her icy eyes suddenly locked onto the cold steel of the blade. The princess traced a finger down the blood-groove, the pad of her index finger skimming over the letters etched in the metal surface.

"From the throne room…it was on the wall." Mulan explained, pulling herself up to standing and holding the blade awkwardly between her upturned palms. "I don't know what the words mean."

"It reads 'I am the thorn that protects the rose'." Aurora whispered "This was my father's sword."

"Oh…My apologies. I didn't mean to—." Mulan moved to put the sword down, suddenly embarrassed to have brandished the blade of a king. "I should not have taken it."

Aurora's hand covered hers, stopping the motion.

"No…keep it. At least it will be given to better use if it is in your care." The princess murmured, her face serious. "You are in need of a sword anyways, since you gave yours to Snow in order to save me."

"Is there another way out?" the swordswoman asked, swiftly changing the topic to hide the ruddy flush burning in her ears. The princess's touch still sent her heartbeat into an arrhythmic syncopation. Mulan fought to slow her breathing, taking great care to focus and calm her aching lungs.

_Inhale. Exhale. Slow. _The warrior reminded herself as she dissolved into a fit of coughing. The princess's sudden closeness seemed to have robbed the swordwoman's brain of any recall on how to function properly. Mulan sputtered, finally gaining control of her hammering heart and lungs.

Aurora spoke, half in a whisper. "Yes. We can take a short cut. This stairway leads to a little study room, which lets out into the courtyard. If we cut across the dais, we can reach the stables."

_The dais._ The two words hung like ice in the air between them, freezing the blood in the warrior's veins.

"We don't have to go out through the courtyards…if you don't want to. The dog will leave eventually…" Mulan trailed off, studying the princess's face for any reaction. Feral snarls and the scrabbling of claws on wood came from behind the door as the beast searched for a method of entry.

"No. We must be away by nightfall. There could be more dogs about…my father was quite fond of hunting with wolfhounds, and I'd rather not face another. It would be best if we get back to the horses the quickest way possible." Aurora's response was clipped and she did not make eye contact. Her pale gaze was distant, peering into times unseen.

Mulan nodded her silent agreement, and breathed a tiny sigh of relief. The longer they stayed, the more melancholy Aurora seemed to become. The warrior secretly hoped that once they were free of these forgotten halls, things would surely feel more normal. "After you, m'lady." She murmured, sliding the sword home into her old scabbard, and sweeping a hand gallantly towards the tiny spiral of stairs.

The princess grimaced solemnly, her mouth pressing into a thin line, but her face still remained impassive and unreadable as her lilac skirts swept down the rough-hewn granite stairway, towards the antechamber below.

—x—


	5. The Smell of Death

The Sword and the Rose (5/5)

**Summary:** Aurora and Mulan must face the dead body of their prince….and the dark repressed memories of Aurora's past flood her mind.

_AN: (Yeah, I re-imagined Maleficent a little bit…I just always pictured her as more of a dark-haired sorceress similar to Morgan LeFay) The last chapter, and probably my favorite :D Enjoy!_

Also, there's some blood, and imagery of suicide in this one..Be forewarned. This chapter is the reason for the T rating, guys…

-x-

The cool expanse of the mosaic courtyards spread out surreally before them like some great tapestry, each stone a dapple of different colored tiles.

From the perspective of an ant, the mishmash of color meant little—it would appear as only a splotchy mass of spectrum strewn across the castle grounds-but from an eagle's eye view, the design came together. Reds, burnt umbers, purples**,** and golds all meshing and swirling, culminating into the enormously intricate patterning of a rising sun emblazoned upon the cracked groundstones. Each piece served a purpose. Each tile had its place.

"This garden was made for my mother when she was pregnant with me." Aurora murmured, blue eyes trained upon the four thorn-encrusted pillars that rose, finger-like, from the center of the sun's beaming tiled rays.

The bier sat, just as they both remembered it. Untouched. Unchanged.

If Mulan squinted, she could just barely make out the cold metallic glimmer of a spinning needle and the decrepit, boney hand of a corpse hidden among the slashed vines and crumbling stones.

"It's the place where they told her she was to have a daughter….and the place where she learned that her child was cursed to sleep eternally. It's the place where they…where they laid me…and the place where Phillip…" The princess's voice wavered and the wind changed. The smell slammed into the pair like a wall, seeping into nostrils and seeming to taint their very pores. It coated Mulan's tongue with a sickly thickness, and the warrior could feel her eyes start to burn. She wrinkled her nose and held her breath, fighting not to retch.

The breeze blew to their faces, filling the air with the sick reek of death. Sweet and rotten; bitter bile and maggots.

Whatever was left of the prince was no longer the smiling, youthful, stubble-faced fellow they had known. That man was gone; replaced only by bleached white bones and a corpse of rotting flesh.

Aurora's voice broke under the weight of the tears welling in her watery eyes. Her body trembled and she clutched her arms about herself as if trying to ward off a chill, though the air was hot and dry. Her face fell slack and a whimper slid from between her lips as her thoughts were engulfed in the shadowy fear-filled annals of her memories.

'_Death._' Aurora thought. Everything here whispered of it. She could hear it as the wind whistled, moaning through the empty tower's spire. It was everywhere. The shadows of the darkened past clung like specters to these broken stones and high parapets…

_She could feel it: the sickly electrical tingle singing across her skin. It made every hair on her arms stand on end and her veins feel itchy as the arcane whispers swirled darkly in her blood, wakening as the clock tolled out her doom. It was time. She had not succeeded, the curse was coming and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She had fought, but she had failed. _

_She felt herself almost floating, tottering dazedly towards the fireplace. Flames danced and twisted in their macabre ballet, tainted an ugly green and guttering out as the wall slid back to reveal a cavernous passageway._

_Maleficent stood at the top of the stairs, beckoning with a perfectly lacquered finger and a serpentine smile splitting her lips. Aurora, in the throes of the witch's darkly spun sorcery, could do nothing but obey. Numb legs staggered up the steps of cold stone laboriously. The caverns felt as if all warmth had been sucked from the air and Aurora would have shivered, had she been able._

_The witch grinned gleefully, flashing a row of perfectly whitened teeth, as she slunk close to the girl and circled. A snake toying with a captive mouse. The dark fairy inspected her prey, slitted pupils devouring every inch of the young princess that stood helpless before her. A spinning wheel sat, simple and dull in the center of the cold room._

_Maleficent was a woman of awe-striking beauty. Her cheekbones were high and hard, boldly sweeping down to frame a strong angular chin. Her nose was straight and soft; her lips plump and vibrant. Her hair was an inky black cascade that poured down her back like a shimmering, ever-moving waterfall. The ebony tresses were like oiled glass, dark and fathomless like the depths of the witch's soul. A circlet of jet adorned her brow, hand carved by an artisan's touch. The coronet's intricacies spiraled upwards to resemble a pair of hellion horns formed from the cold, semi-precious stonework. In a different time she could have caught the eye of many a mortal man._

_The only signifiers that the ancient temptress was far more dangerous than she appeared were the hard, golden eyes-ethereal and unnerving with their slitted serpentine pupils-and the forked tongue that flicked maliciously, hungrily dancing behind her incisors. She was enchanting, but terrifying. A lioness dressed in woman's form. Soft skin and the curvature of hips hid vicious venom, tooth, and claw._

_She grinned, almost welcomingly, as Aurora stumbled to a stop in the middle of the tiny cell's floor. The princess twitched, her muscles flinching and straining against the pull of the dark arcane arts, fighting in silence to regain control._

"_Oh, little princess." The witch teased in a sing-songy voice dripping with malice. "Did you really think that burning all those spinning wheels was enough to defeat me?" she swept around, dark smoke billowing from the hem of her shadowy cloak. Aurora flinched as the sorceress's hot breath flittered across the back of her neck, teasing the tiny hairs of her nape. "Foolish child. I will have my vengeance one way or another…My curse was absolute when I placed it on the day of your birth. It cannot be defeated, nor can I. I am the unkillable….and you were damned from the moment I laid eyes on you." She hissed. _

_Aurora did not rise to the bait. Her fiery blue eyes stared straight ahead, not even deigning to give the sorceress the grace of her eye contact._

"_You know, princess…this is exactly how your mother looked when I cursed her. Pale eyes, soft ringlets of hair, and a face struck dumb with fear…I guess that's what happens when you're sent under the 'sleeping death': All your courage evaporates too." The witch wheedled, mockingly, a thick pink lip poked out as Maleficent feigned pity. "Such a sad story."_

_Aurora's muscles tensed at the mention of Briar Rose, her ice-blue eyes blazing fury. She wanted to strangle the sorceress, but all she could manage was a weak twitching in the tips of her fingers._

_Maleficent's eyes noted the tiny motions and her tongue ran across her lower lip while her dark slitted pupils widened in pleasure. This was her favorite part of the game. Breaking the young girl would be a pleasure and the witch intended to savor every piece before she sent the spawn of her enemy to the oblivion._

"_I wonder…did you ever get to see 'mummy' again, princess? Let me think…" The sorceress tapped her chin, miming as if she were deep in thought. "Oh, you didn't, did you? How tragic." The sorceress sighed, _

"_They say the Queen was never seen outside her tower room after the day she awoke under your father's kiss….Rumor has it that she went mad." Maleficent cooed, a hand fluttering to her chest in mock grief. She sighed theatrically."Why must the good always die young?"_

_Aurora exploded, her rage granting her the strength to wrest herself from the dark arcane thrall. "Shut up! SHUT UP! Don't you DARE speak of her that way! Don't you DARE! You vile, loathsome, evil WITCH. You're the one that killed her. YOU'RE the reason she's DEAD." The princess roared, seething with unbridled fury._

_Maleficent stopped her pacing, whirling to face the princess. Her golden eyes narrowed as the maiden's icy gaze stared her down, unyielding. She flicked out a finger, and Aurora's jaw snapped itself shut, the princess's teeth nearly cutting the offending tongue in half. _

"_Now, now dear…Manners." The veiled threat was low and dripping with cold malice. Tension and magic crackled in the air like lightning before a storm._

_Maleficent resumed her pacing, her tone flippant, but cutting. "Your mother's death was by her own hand. The dreams of the curse drove her to insanity, not I." The witch twisted the truth, using her words to drive hot poisonous barbs into Aurora's heart, letting the taint of fear sap the woman's strength. _

_The girl was crumbling. She could feel it…she just needed a bit more. One final push._

_The sorceress paused in her pacing, a deadly sneer crawling across her blood red lips. She drew herself up close to the princess, their faces nearly touching._

"_You know, princess ….perhaps if you awake, you'll go crazy just like your dear old mother. Such a pity to see her lovely little brains splattered across that courtyard wasn't it? Hmmm?_

_The witch hissed and Aurora trembled. Hot tears pricked at the corner of the princess's eyes, but she could not shut her ears to the sorceress' poisonous words._

"_You know…the old scholars used to say 'like mother like daughter'"_

_Aurora's blood turned to ice, and she could feel her heart clench and jump to her throat. 'No..dear gods please no…' Her thoughts whispered. The images of her mother's body flashed before her mind's eye, limbs bent and crooked, bone jutting at odd angles. And blood. So much blood….it had pooled in the dingy cracks of the cobblestones and matted in the tresses of cornsilk gold, mingling with the dirt and mud. _

'_Not like that. Any way but that.' The princess begged, silently pleading with all her heart but the spirits above and below ignored her cries._

"_...let's test that theory shall we?" The draconic sorceress hissed, grinning wide and cruel._

_Aurora felt her hand raise of its own volition, pointer finger outstretching to touch the needle that glinted sharp and bright. She could feel a subtle sanguine pooling in her fingertips as the curse pulled at her, hungry to fulfill its duty. _

_Internally the princess screamed. She fought, she raged, she swore…but nary a sound escaped her lips, and her soft flesh continued its approach towards the needle's cold piercing edge._

_Maleficent watched, black pupils expanding wide and fathomless as she relished her triumphant moment of glory. The forked tongue licked her crimson lips in hungry anticipation, savoring each precious second; watching hate roil and war with utter terror in the princess's clear azure eyes. Joy trilled in her balck heart, and eager blood pulsed loudly in the witch's ears. Her pulse raced, and her vision swam with the heady mix of adrenaline and pure satisfaction._

_Her vengeance would be complete. After all these years, Stephen would pay for what he had done ot her. All the wrongs of years past would soon be soothed. She had kept her promise. She had utterly crushed him and had ripped away what he loved. She would have her justice…finally. _

_And all it took was a drop of blood._

_Aurora felt the slice of skin and the trickle of her life'sblood spatter across the needle and dribble to the stone floor as her knees buckled and her mind whirled into darkness._

_Distantly she heard the hissing cackle of Maleficent as the old sorceress howled her victory, arms outstretched to the heavens._

_The rest was silence._

Mulan watched as the headstrong, independent princess faded in a matter of minutes, azure eyes wide with terror as the flashbacks took their hold on Aurora's mind.

She had to do something…but what?

Aurora was slipping through the warrior's grasp faster than sand through a sieve.

The swordswoman moved on instinct, stepping between the princess and the bier and blocking the lattice and the dead body of the prince from view. The reek of rotting flesh still hung on the torrid breeze, and Mulan's stomach rolled as she considered that Phillip's corpse had been baking in the desert heat for nearly 2 months.

She cupped her gloved hands beneath Aurora's chin, holding her face and claiming her attention; silently pulling her back to the here and now. The calloused gloved thumbs of the warrior rubbed in soft circles, sweeping across the maiden's fair tear-stained cheeks, while she spoke in hushed soothing tones.

"Aurora. It's ok. I'm here. I'm not going to leave you. Shhh. Everything is fine. What you're seeing is just a memory. It's not real…not anymore. You're safe now. You're safe with me. We're going to find a way through this together. I promise."

The dark pupils of Aurora's eyes were dilated into twin yawning blackened pits, wide with fear…but as Mulan's gentle words continued, the soft murmurs of reassurance seemed to have an effect. Pupils gradually constricted, and glassy gaze slowly regained some of its icy acuity. The breaths of the princess still came in shallow pants, and her frame still trembled like a leaf in autumn...but at least it was a start.

"Let's cross the courtyard, princess. I'll be with you. Step by step. We can take it slow. I'm not going anywhere." Mulan coaxed, gently tugging at Aurora, placing a guiding hand upon her back and prompting her to follow. "We can make it through this. Together. Close your eyes, princess. Let me guide you. I am your thorn and you are my rose. I will protect you every step of the way."

And so the warrior swore, both by word of mouth and by the whispering of her heart that she would never abandon the princess. Aurora did as the swordswoman bid, and clamped her eyes shut. Her fingers curled hard and fast, cleaving to the warrior's touch.

"Don't let go." Aurora whispered.

"Never." Mulan vowed. And together they stepped out arduously, to cross the yawning expanse of sun-soaked stones.

Together they walked, flesh touching flesh, across the courtyards to the stables. The swordswoman never lifted her touch from the maiden's skin, even long after the dais was out of view.

Mulan's hand never left Aurora's, even as she helped the princess up onto her horse. She strapped the heavy scabbard of Stephan's ancient sword to the saddlehorn, and swung up into her seat, still insuring that she was only an arm's length away from the young princess.

"We never did get the book…" Aurora whispered, fiddling absently with her skirts, and not making eye contact.

"Maybe…maybe it's better that way. Even if we had done it all- found the book, tracked down the wraith, and found a way to recover Phillip's soul-who is to say that he would still be whole? Who is to say that there is even a world left for him to return to?"

"True. Everything here is dead." The princess spat bitterly. Mulan fell silent, mulling over her words and choosing them carefully.

"…but there was good in this world once…and there can be good again. We can rebuild our home. When we are together….there is hope."

Aurora's eyes flicked up, studying the warrior's dark face for a long moment, before her soft lips perked into a crooked smile.

"Yes. A new beginning." She whispered, gazing poignantly into the hard brown eyes of her faithful swordswoman.

Together they moved, edging their beasts into a trot as they retraced their way back out of the dying castle. They stayed, close in spirit and in proximity even as they watched the sun set, casting its hopeful orange glow upon the western hills.


End file.
